My high school Algebra teacher, Father Elroy Pesch, passed away yesterday. He was a badass hunting, fishing, Harley riding priest in a Franciscan habit.
His algebra course was the only class I ever failed. I remember him constantly mystified by my stupidity, but kind in a gruff, impatient way and with his signature sense of humor.
Whenever we wanted a break from learning, we needed only to ask him about the author of the algebra textbook Mary Dolciani, and he would regale us with stories about the time they met. He loved telling stories.
Another way we learned to sidetrack him was simply to mention the word “pelican.” The mere mention of that word would move him to ask us if he’d ever shared his pelican poem with us. We had heard it many times and could recite it, but we all pretended we’d never heard it before, just to hear it again from his mouth.
“What a wonderful bird is the pelican.
Its beak can hold more than its belly can.
It can hold in its beak, enough food for one week.
But I’ll be darned if I know how the hell he can.”
I taught that poem to my children when they were little. They still know it by heart.
It’s funny. Father Elroy was my high school algebra teacher. I can’t recall one bit of algebra, but I will never forget his laugh, the way he smelled of cigars and that damn pelican poem.
We can never know the impact we will have on others.
This was his enduring lesson.
